Dreaming of You
by Post Mortem Pixie
Summary: A one-shot I thought up when I was tired about Spain after North Italy and South Italy became one Italy and Romano no longer existed. I cried while writing this, and this is the most emotional thing I have EVER written.


**A/N- Just a sad little one-shot I thought up when I was tired about Spain after Italy and Romano became one country and Romano ceased to exist. I'm not happy I wrote this, I cried when writing it.**

* * *

"Lovino!" I exclaimed as I ran up to him after biology.

"What the fuck do you want you tomato bastard?" He asked.

"I'm just so happy to see you!"

"You've been seeing me all day!"

I gave Lovino a bear hug and he started blushing profusely.

"You bastard. People'll start talking." He muttered through my hair.

"I don't care."

"H-hey. We need to get to our next class!"

"Oh, right! We have History next!" I let go Lovino and my smile widened. "Come on, Lovi!" I grabbed his wrist and pulled him over to the history classroom.

"I can walk!" He exclaimed, struggling to get out of my grasp. "Let go of me!"

"Haha~ Okay, Lovi." I let go of his hand as we walked into the classroom.

We took our seats by the window, side by side as the lesson began.

* * *

"How's he doing?" Germany asked.

"He hasn't gotten much better," Italy replied.

"This is ridiculous. If anyone should respond this badly it should be you. He was your brother."

"I know, but Spain and Fratello were very close."

Spain rolled onto his side and he smiled.

"What do you think he's dreaming about?" Germany asked.

"I don't know," Italy said. "Probably fratello." Germany nodded.

"Is Madrid okay? Is she handling the extra work okay?"

"Sì. I've been helping her some too."

"Italy, you've also had a extra work too!"

"I had been working with a lot of the Southern part of my country before-"

"But still. You need to get used to being fully responsible."

"I am," Italy said.

"When do you think France will be here?" Germany asked.

"Soon. France said he wanted to get something."

"What?"

"I don't know." Italy stared sadly at Spain. "He's so happy. He must be dreaming about fratello…" He said quietly. Germany stared out the window and saw a car pull into the driveway.

"France is here," he said as a male with long blonde hair stepped out of the car with a box in tomato wrapping paper. Germany opened the door before France could ring the doorbell. "He's asleep right now."

"I see," France said sadly as he took a step in. "Where is Italy?"

"He's watching Spain." France nodded and walked to Spain's bedroom.

Italy nodded to France as he walked in, and France returned the nod.

* * *

"Come on, Lovi!" I exclaimed as I pulled him down the street.

"Slow down, bastard," Lovino growled. I continued to skip forward, smiling like a maniac.

"We're almost there~!"

"Where're we going?"

"You'll see!" I continued to pull him until I stopped in front of an Italian restaurant that had just opened up.

"What the- Antonio, I have Italian food all the time. I'm from fucking Italy," he said.

"I know~ But I want you to tell me whether the food here is as good as the food in Italy!" Lovino sighed in defeat.

"Fine, bastard."

"Yay!" I applauded and then ran into the restaurant with Lovi trailing behind.

* * *

"So, Lovi?" I asked.

"It's not nearly as good as the food back in Italy," he responded.

"So I bet the food there is super-extra good!"

"That doesn't even make any sense," Lovi grumbled.

"So, tomorrow we'll go to a Spanish restaurant and I'll tell you if it's as good as the Spanish food in Spain."

"Fine. As long as you're the one who pays for that meal as well you tomato bastard."

"Deal! Come on, Lovi!" I grabbed his hand after slamming some money on the table. "Let's go to your house!"

"Why do we always go to my house?"

"Because, you're parents are way nicer than mine! And yours actually knock! Plus you live so close!"

We ran all the way down to Lovi's house, and we went straight up to his room, only stopping to say hi to his parents, and brother.

He turned on his TV and we sat on his bed, side-by-side. I kicked off my shoes, and rested my head on his shoulder as football started to play, but neither of us were really paying attention to the game.

* * *

The next day, just as I had promised, I had taken Lovino to a Spanish restaurant.

"What do you think?" I asked as he took his first bite.

"Italian food is better," he said.

I then also started to eat.

"So…?" he nudged. I cocked my head in a questioning way. "Is this as good as the food in Spain?" He rolled his eyes.

"Oh," I said. "Nope. But it's still pretty good!"

We talked as we ate, and when we left we left in a similar manner as yesterday. I slammed money down on the table and then ran out with Lovi.

"We're going to a park today!" I said, and I just heard Lovi sigh.

We really only sat on the swings, but I also climbed trees some.

I gasped. "Lovi! Look! An ice cream truck! I thought they were only legends!" Lovi rolled his eyes.

"That's not even a truck, bastard."

"I'm going to go get some!" I ran across the street to the vendor.

"What would you like?"

I placed my order, but then I remember that I had forgotten to ask Lovi what he wanted, so I waved to him and called, "Lovi! What do you want!"

I saw him sigh, and then he started to walk across the street to tell me what he wanted, but before he made it across there was a squealing of tires, a scream, and then a crash.

Lovino had been hit.

"Lovi!" I ran over to him as the driver hopped out of her car and started dialing a number. "Lovi!" I shook him. "Lovi!" I put my hand to his chest, and felt nothing. "Lovino! Don't die! You can't die!"

* * *

Spain smiling face suddenly sunk and tears were quickly streaming down his face, making his pillow, clothes, and blankets wet. He shortly after started muttering, "It's my fault. It's all my fault." over and over again.

Italy, Germany, and France all exchanged worried looks, and then Spain lurched up, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Spain!" France and Italy exclaimed as they rushed over to him, and Germany looked at him with a worried expression.

"Are you okay?" Italy asked.

"What happened?" France asked.

Spain hugged his knees and shook his head, trying to deny both reality and his dream. His bed sheets were getting increasingly wetter by the minute.

Italy and France sat down beside him and gave him comforting hugs.

When he had finally calmed down a little Italy asked again, "Are you okay?"

"No!" He bawled. "How could I be fine!" he started to cry again and he fell into Italy, who just gave him a reassuring hug and let him cry on his shoulder.

"It's okay," he said. "Everyone's having a hard time with this." He patted Spain's head.

"I'll get him some water," Germany said, and left the room.

"Were you dreaming about Romano?" France asked. Spain nodded into Italy's shoulder. "Love can be a difficult, painful thing." Spain made a sound of agreement.

After a few minutes Spain detached himself from Italy and breathed in a shaky breath.

"Here," Germany handed him the cup of water he had left to get.

"Thanks." He took it and took a sip of it. "What's that?" He had noticed the gift with the tomato wrapping paper sitting on his desk.

"It's a gift for you," France said, getting up to grab it, and handed it to Spain who slowly, and carefully, opened it.

He pulled out two plushie tomatoes, one was scowling and the other was smiling. Spain smiled slightly at them and a few tears ran down his face.

"Thank you, France," he said.

"You're welcome. And I hope you can look back to happier days with these."

Spain nodded and hugged the tomatoes, remembering the way Romano would always call him 'Tomato Bastard'.

After several minutes of this Italy said, "What was your dream about? You seemed so happy at first anyways."

"Oh, it was stupid," he laughed shakily. "Romano and I were humans in school. I think we were dating. I don't know."

"But what happened before you woke up? You were crying."

"Oh, that," he stared down at the tomato plushies. "I'd rather not talk about it…"

"That's okay, of course," France said, sending a seemingly angry glare at Italy. "You never have to tell us, only if you feel you have to."

"Although talking about things can help," Italy said. Germany cleared his throat and asked to see him in the hallway for a minute. "Okay." Italy followed him out of the room, and came back a minute later. "You really don't have to tell us, Spain." Spain nodded.

"I'd really like to be alone for a bit," he said.

"Okay, come on, Italy," Germany said and walked out of the room followed by Italy and France.

Spain gripped his tomato plushies tighter and wept into them, slowly falling asleep again, only to have the same dream. Over and over again.


End file.
